


Sins Of The Father Leave Scars On The Son

by jungle_ride



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/pseuds/jungle_ride
Summary: Merlin has had Morgan’s disconnected thoughts and endless rambles inside his head for hours now, their shared power and strong bond allowed them to communicate even when distance separated them. This had previously seemed like a blessing, especially when so many of their conversations contained secrets, that if exposed could potentially have them both killed.
Relationships: Merlin/Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: Rule 63 Exchange 2020





	Sins Of The Father Leave Scars On The Son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Impala_Chick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/gifts).



Merlin has had Morgan’s disconnected thoughts and endless rambles inside his head for hours now, their shared power and strong bond allowed them to communicate even when distance separated them. This had previously seemed like a blessing, especially when so many of their conversations contained secrets, that if exposed could potentially have them both killed. 

Now though, with Morgan’s anger and frustration bombarding him every waking moment, Merlin was having doubts. Merlin longed for the soft words of affection that he was used to hearing inside his mind. He wanted to see the hidden smirk on Morgan’s face as he slipped into Merlin’s mind to relay the plans he had for them that evening in the middle of court and then watch Morgan hide his laugh when Merlin inevitably tripped over his feet or something akin. It’s not that Merlin doesn't understand Morgan feelings right now, he’s not beyond empathy, but the cold fixation that Morgan had attached to was exhausting in its relentlessness. 

_Backwards thinking idiot! He’s a hypocrite! An idiot! Pathetic! Old fool! Liar!_

Merlin sighs and knocks on the wooden door, cutting off Morgan’s stream of thoughts. The silence that returns to Merlin’s own mind is a welcome relief. 

“Who is it?” Morgan calls, tone irritated. 

“It’s Merlin.” Merlin says and he’s not surprised when he hears a chair scraping on the stone floor before the door swings open a moment later. 

“You’re back.” Morgan says surprised, his lips turned upwards. Merlin takes in the other man’s appearance. Morgan's dark raven hair is ruffled and standing up at different angles, the clear indication that his hands have been running through it wildly, tugging at it in exasperation. 

“I’m back.” Merlin agrees, slipping past Morgan into the room and wrinkling his nose a little as the strong scent of wine that lingered on Morgana wafted over him. 

“Not that I’m not pleased, but why are you back so early. It’s your day off.” Morgan asks as he closes the door. 

“Well from what I heard, I figured you might need me more.” Merlin says and smiles wryly tapping his head when Morgan scrunches his face in confusion. Realisation flashes across Morgan’s features. 

“You heard me?” Morgan sighs, dropping back down into a chair.

“Oh yeah I heard you alright.” Merlin knows Morgana was stating it as a fact rather than a question, even so he can’t help but tease him. To lighten the mood for a moment, if nothing else. 

“I wasn’t...I wasn’t trying....” Morgan lets out a groan of frustration and runs a hand over his face. 

“No I know you weren’t.” Merlin soothes, coming over to Morgan and wrapping his arms around his neck from behind, chin coming to rest in the crook of his shoulder. Even now, two years into Merlin helping Morgan harness his powers, Morgan still often lost control. 

“Sorry.” Morgan grumbles, leaning into the embrace and wrapping his hands over Merlin’s forearms giving them a squeeze. 

“It’s fine.” Merlin plants a firm kiss to Morgan’s cheek in reassurance before sitting down in the empty chair beside him. 

“So your thoughts weren't exactly clear but from what I got I'm guessing King Uther is...well doing what he does best.” Merlin says jovially, tapping his boot against Morgan’s leg. 

“The man is,“ Morgan pauses and sighs “there aren't words.” 

Three years have come and gone since Merlin first arrived in Camelot and in that time, Merlin has seen and done many things. Discovered dragons, heard prophecy after prophecy, fought in battles, found love and played the fool whilst he hid the power in his veins, but the one thing he still can’t quite get his head around is Uther. By all rights Merlin should hate the man, but despite his many, many, _many_ faults Merlin can’t quite muster hatred, not after having witnessed him bent over a bed with tears in his eyes, clutching the hand of his daughter Artoria and praying for her survival. 

Still Merlin knows Morgan’s relationship with Uther was much more complicated than Merlin’s ever would be. Morgan had been at odds with Uther long before Merlin came to Camelot, challenging old ideas and systems and demanding change. There was a reason the servants at court, especially the females, revered him. He was their advocate. Uther’s daughter Artoria had challenged her father’s ideals as well, training to fight and requesting to take on the role of leading the knights that she would have done had she been born male but it had been Morgan who had finally convinced the King to allow it. Still despite their differences there had always been affection between the two as well. However when Morgan discovered his true paternal lineage things had only gotten more tense, that affection turning into bitter contempt. 

“What did he do?” Merlin asks, picking up a goblet and pouring himself a glass of wine. Morgan takes a long drink from his own goblet, draining the context in one gulp, before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. 

“Well Uther had taken upon himself to write to King Eldridge to try and arrange a marriage between me and his daughter Princess Inara.. Uther figured he could use me as a bargaining chip to secure an alliance between their kingdoms before King Eldrige dies, rumor has it he’s very sick and not likely to survive another year.”

Merlin ignores the twinge in his stomach at the idea of Morgan being betrothed to anymore, he knows Morgan would never agree to any, unless of course it was Merlin and besides judging from Morgan’s anger, this definitely went deeper than a planned betrothal. 

“He has a son doesn't he?” Merlin asks, trying desperately to recall the details of King Eldridge's lineage. Morgan nods ruefully. 

“Oh yeah, he has a son. Prince Blase, Blase is his second child, born out of wedlock, to a servant woman after the Queen died but you see King Eldrige has decided that his oldest should take the crown despite gender.” 

“But Uther doesn't.” Merlin says, slowly beginning to piece together the puzzle. 

“No of course he doesn't but that’s not the best part.” Morgan scoffs, pouring himself another goblet of wine and topping up Merlin’s. 

“No the best part is when King Eldridge wrote back politely informing him of his, Uther decided that it was an atrocity, that a male heir, no matter their lineage or placement of birth should not take the crown over a woman.” Morgan grits his teeth as he speaks, jaw tense and Merlin understands precisely what this has triggered for Morgan. Morgan downs the contents of his goblet in one giant swing. 

“Morgan.” Merlin begins, not sure he knows what to say to make it better, but desperate for the darkness that has crossed into Morgan’s usually blue eyes to dissipate. 

“He said it right to my face Merlin, looked me in the eyes and told him he believes a male heir should take the crown, even if they’re not born in conventional manners.” Morgan spits, slamming the goblet back on the table in one violet motion.

“I don’t even want it, but the audacity.” Morgan leans back and laughs, loud and sardonic. 

“Don’t you?” Merlin hesitantly asks, he’s been wondering about that for a while now and despite Morgan’s protests Merlin can’t help but feel he’s not being entirely truthful. 

“What?” Morgan’s head whips around to look at him, eyes narrowing a little at the accusation. 

Merlin hesitates, unsure of what to say. Uncertain even of his own thoughts. Morgan had proven many times over, to be protective of Artoria, even if they were always in competition to outdo the other. However, there was a restlessness in Morgan that had only grown more turbulent since learning the truth of her lineage , and perhaps Merlin is still fearful that Killgaragh’s prophecy would come true, despite the love between them. 

Merlin is stirred from his thoughts when he feels a tight squeeze on his knee. Lifting his gaze from off the floor, Merlin’s eyes lock onto Morgan’s. The darkness that had been flickering in them earlier has softened.

“I don’t want Camelot Merlin.” He says softly, truthfully. “If I really wanted that I would have taken it a year ago when I had the chance. Remember?” 

Merlin did remember, remembers Morgause and her words of venomous seduction. How Morgan had almost succumbed to the darkness of a past he had no memory of. How Merlin had almost lost him to revenge and murder. _Almost_. 

“You want _something_.” Merlin says, so soft it’s almost a whisper. Morgan contemplates his words for a moment, fingers absentmindedly tracing the skin of Merlin’s knuckles. When he speaks his voice is quiet and steady laced with a deep rooted tiredness. 

“I want the truth Merlin. I want Uther to admit his betrayals, that he has denied me my rights of birth. I want vengeance for the thousands of innocent people that have been slaughtered because he couldn’t deal with the fact his own recklessness cost him the life of his wife and I want him to face the consequences of those actions, for the lives he has destroyed. I want magic to be free again.” Morgan pauses, swallows and sighs and Merlin’s just about to reply how magic will be free again, that Artoria would make it so, when Morgan continues. 

“ _I_ want to be free. Free to be who I am, but mostly free from this anger.” Morgan puts a hand to his chest, as if to indicate the place where he feels the burn, the spot right over his heart. Merlin feels his own chest clench in sympathy, the painful knowledge that some hurts run too deep weighing heavy on his shoulders. 

“I know what it is you're scared of me becoming Merlin and I can’t lie to you, I'm not sure I won’t be what Killgarah has foretold. This darkness, it looms over him like a sword about to fall and I’m terrified I’ll be slain by it.” 

“You won’t.” Merlin reassures, reaching over to cover the hand against Morgan’s chest with his own, intertwining their fingers. 

“I don’t care what Killgarah said, I know you and you have a good heart Morgan, you’re not going to lose it.” 

“How can you be so sure?” He asks and Merlin presses his forehead against his. 

“Because you told me it was mine to keep and I take care of things that are mine.” Merlin says and Morgan’s lips twitch upwards in the ghost of a smile. 


End file.
